


Major Pain

by SithHappens



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, stray dog, you know how it goes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 06:57:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5238758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SithHappens/pseuds/SithHappens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers and a stray dog.  What could possibly go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Major Pain

**Author's Note:**

> I was challenged. This was my response.

Steve was met with a sharp barking when he left for his morning run.  A stray dog was standing outside looking up at him from around knee height.  It was dirty and thin, with wire hair and a wagging tail.  He’d never seen the dog before, but it seemed friendly enough.  “Hey there, fella.  Where’d you come from?”

The dog whined a little before giving another bark and sitting expectantly.  Steve shook his head with a shrug.  “Sorry, buddy.  I don’t have any treats.”

Another bark and the dog stood to trot off down the street.  Chalking it up to a one-off, Steve went ahead with his normal routine. It wasn’t until he was a few blocks into his run that he heard panting and the scrabbling of claws on concrete. Glancing down, he saw the stray dog keeping pace with him, looking excited as the wind blew through its fur and whipped its ears back.  It reminded Steve of an eternity ago, when he was a boy and had wanted a dog so bad it hurt; made worse by seeing all the other kids with their own little four-legged tag-alongs.  His mother had given a firm no.  They could barely afford themselves, let alone a dog.  And that had been the end of that.  Steve found himself smiling at the memory of tossing scraps at strays in the Brooklyn streets, getting a nip or two for his troubles.  But it never stopped him.  

Besides, who was Steve Rogers to refuse such a well-behaved running companion?  He dodged people and stayed out of the street and didn’t cause a single problem.  But about six blocks later, the dog fell back and took off down an alley.  Steve told himself the dog was probably just getting tuckered out and heading back home.   _Yeah, that’s it, Rogers._  The little guy was heading home to a warm place by a fire and a full belly and a family that loves him.  No digging through dumpster or getting run off by loud assholes waving brooms or worse. _Yeah_.  

—

Whatever the case of the matter, the next day the dog was back at Steve’s doorstep.  

“You again, huh,” Steve smirked as he locked his door.  Much like the day before, the dog whined, barked, and sat.  With a huff of laughter, Steve reached a hand for him.  “Okay, let’s check you for a collar.”

But the dog danced away from him, play bowing with its tail swinging wildly in the air.  When Steve tried again, brow knit in mild annoyance, the dog hopped backwards.  It took off several yards down the sidewalk before swinging back around and barking again.

“I take it you want to run again,” Steve asked, straightening.  The dog whined and pranced in place, like he was getting impatient.  Rolling his eyes, Steve began to jog in that direction.  “Taking orders from a dog now.  Guess I’ve had worse COs.”

The dog just yapped as they took off down the sidewalk together.

—

Two more mornings of the same routine.  Dog at the front door, wouldn’t allow Steve to grab him, ran along Steve’s route like clockwork.  The third day and Steve snorted in feigned annoyance at the dog waiting patiently. The dog cocked its head to one side when Steve reached into a pocket and pulled out a foil packet.

“This is all you’re getting from me,” Rogers mumbled, unwrapping the foil to reveal some leftover chicken and rice.  He knelt on the sidewalk to deposit the packet.

The dog bounded forward happily, sinking its muzzle into the food.  Steve reached out tentatively, and finding the dog was completely distracted with its meal, he brushed a hand down the back of its neck.   The dog’s ears pitched forward, but it didn’t stop eating at the touch.  That was reassuring.  No collar hidden in the fur.  Steve brushed his hand further down and could feel the ribs and spine pretty prominently, the fur a bit greasy and matted in spots, pulling all the way to the dog’s wagging tail.

Once finished, the dog looked up, licking its chops and sniffing at Steve curiously before twisting away.  Steve stayed kneeling a moment longer, shaking his head again.  “Guess you probably don’t have a home do ya?”

A happy bark was the response, as though the prospect did not affect the dog’s keenness to start their regular routine.

“I should probably get you to a shelter,” Steve sighed as he stood, which drew a whine from the dog as it padded around anxiously.  He scoffed on instinct.  “Don’t give me that.  It’s not like I need a dog right now.”

Steve ran his hand over his face, grumbling at himself.  “Alright Rogers, quit arguing with the dog.”

Barking again, the dog fell in for yet another run.

—

The eighth day, it rained. And Steve was a little concerned when his little running companion was not outside waiting for him.  Truth be told, when he heard the spattering of rain drops as he woke up, his first thought was about whether or not the dog would be smart enough to get under some sort of cover.  At the very least, he hadn’t been dumb enough to stay there.  Though a part of Steve knew if he’d seen the dog waiting in the wet grass he would’ve let him inside.  Maybe it was for the best.

—

The ninth day was sunny and the dog was still not back.  Steve tried to shrug it off, murmuring to himself “Animal control probably picked him up.”

As though saying it would make it true.  Still, Steve found himself looking down at his side and glancing down streets on his run.

—

The twelfth day, Steve couldn’t help the relieved sigh that escaped him upon seeing the dog outside his door again.  But when the dog slowly raised to its feet, whimpering and holding its front right paw tight to its chest, he knew something was wrong.

“What happened, huh,” Steve asked, kneeling down and extending a hand, not wanting to scare the dog off. Instead, it limped forward pitifully before resting its chin in Steve’s palm.

Carefully, he wrapped an arm around the dog’s body, securing him tight to his chest and lifting the dog up. There was an initial squirm and yelp, but soon the little guy settled and let Steve carry him inside.

—

After a trip to the vet and a cast for a simple fracture and time recuperating, it appeared Steve had himself a dog.  The paperwork had him as “Buddy.”  Steve thought it was pretty boring and didn’t fit the intelligent and rambunctious beast that tried to boss him around every chance it got.

For instance, on their first serious run since getting healed up, Steve had the dog on a leash and harness as he’d eventually gotten the dog used to.  He wasn’t going all out this time for the dog’s sake, but he remembered where his four-legged friend used to slow down and pull off.  This time was no exception, the dog pulling and pulling at Steve to go the direction it was so used to.

“What is so important down there,” Steve asked, coming to a stop to avoid any injury.  The dog looked up at him with a whiney huff, tugging wildly. Steve’s shoulders fell in defeat. “Fine.”

He let the dog lead him down a few blocks in a direction Steve had never been before.  Soon, the dog was stopping at the entrance to a little dog park.  All sorts of breeds scampered and played together inside the fence, a few owners inside playing with them.  Steve’s dog barked wildly, jumping at the fence, and Steve was about to let him in when a young woman looked up from her own mutt with a bright smile.  She hooked a leash to her dog’s collar and the two of them came trotting over.

“Hi,” she beamed, joining Steve on the outside of the fence.  “I can’t believe you caught Major!”

“Major,” Steve blinked in surprise.  The dog immediately sat at the sound of the name.  Confused, Steve glanced at the woman in from of him who began to pet the now calmed dog.  “Is this your dog?”

“Oh, no,” she chuckled, reaching into her pocket to pull out a little treat to give the patiently waiting dog.  “He’s a stray I’d been trying to catch for a while.  I, uh… I started calling him a major pain in the ass.”

Steve snorted in amusement. “Sounds about right.”

He leaned over to roughly pet the top of the dog’s head, causing its tongue to loll out.  The dog panted up at him a moment with the goofiest grin. “Major.  Yeah, we’ll go with that from now on.”

Major just yapped happily, tail wagging as he sat for another treat.


End file.
